


A Pair of Queens

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Women, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Femslash, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Harvelle's Roadhouse, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Multi, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Smut, St. Patrick's Day, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, Vaginal Fingering, Wingman Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 02:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12447324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: It’s Saint Patrick’s Day and The Roadhouse is bringing their A-Game.They’re not the only ones: Charlie’s had her eye on Jo for a while now and she's on a mission.With her friends in her corner, a little (lotta) bit of liquid courage, plus the luck of the Irish on her side—she’s hoping to win Jo over.  Although it’s not going to take much, since Jo’s pretty damn captivated by the Queen of Moondoor to begin with.





	A Pair of Queens

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Charlie/Jo
> 
> My beta [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) is the best and deserves a parade after this challenge is complete xoxo

****Jo had been waiting for it.  The patrons had began to funnel in as soon as the Roadhouse flipped their sign to ‘Open.’  While that wasn’t unusual for their regulars who popped in around this time, here was a steady stream of people that filled the tables, the booths, the bar, hell, some were just standing around, waiting for an opening—like a dam had broken!  
  
It was the same every year, and they’d well since learned their lesson, which was why it was all hands on deck.

The crew was hustling during one of the biggest drinking holidays of the year wearing enough _obvious_ green so bold, blitzed customers wouldn’t feel they were privileged enough to reach out and ‘pinch them.’

Oh, that had happened one year, and Jo had fucking decked the guy on the spot!  His pathetic excuse for feeling up her ass was because ‘she wasn’t wearing green:’ apparently the lime letters in the Roadhouse Logo for this occasion had not been enough.

That was why Ellen had instituted a ‘Dress for Tips’ wardrobe code.

What laid before the servers, bartenders, hell—even the hosts—was a _goldmine_ waiting to be tapped into.  Or… a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.    
  
Good ol’ Saint Patrick’s Day.

They’d rounded up the A-Team: Jo, Dean, Meg and Ruby hauling ass on the floor, Benny and (a pleaded, begged and blackmailed) Sam behind the bar.  Ash was the one continuously concocting the green beer from the keg, and running hourly specials on shots he would announce over the intercom, getting everyone riled up over the discount.

Despite the fuss and excitement, his ‘drink specials’ were mostly due to the fact they’d been running out of liquor at an alarming pace!  So they needed to re-direct the taste buds of these obvious ‘liquor connoisseurs’ towards the surplus of beer and cheap mixes they still had left.  Hah—whatever.

Jo was ducking and dodging to get to the tables, and her tray was never without a pitcher of green beer and at least one Dirty Girl Scout set atop it.  Sometimes there would be food, sometimes everyone was just looking to get handed a random shot and plastered.  Hell, the Roadhouse crew themselves had to do a few shots in-between order-ups to keep their sanity.  Patrons got stupid after Happy Hour… and more stupid as the day turned into evening.

Jo took her Mom’s advice seriously—dress for success (the tips), and while she’d been making mad cash in the cute, low v-neck green and black dress she went out and _bought_ just for the occasion, she wanted to shoot herself for the heels!  What was she thinking?!  They weren’t even stilettos—she knew _those_ would be a death wish—but a pair of kitten heels shouldn’t have been a problem, right?

Wrong.

Not when Jo usually wore boots all day.  Plus, she usually _wasn’t_ hustling back and forth like a sprinter, these customers chugging like it was their last night on Earth.  Oh, and then there was the fact that the floor was slick as hell because dumbasses forgot where their damn mouth was when they drank!  It was a recipe for disaster!  
  
Jo had been silently eyeing the other women’s footwear with piqued interest, but she was screwed no matter how it went down.

Meg and Ruby’s heels were more daunting than hers were, so she couldn’t beg for a trade.  That was a lost cause.  She’d just have to wait it out.

As Jo dropped off an appetizer platter with two pitchers of green beer and cups, she noticed something alarming out of the corner of her eye.  Well… alarming to her and her inner turmoil.

Dean was leaning against one of the booths, a wide smile on his face with his tray tucked under his armpit.  Visiting.  Chatting.  Having a grand old time while the rest of them—!

Oh, _hell no_.  No way he was going to get away from this!  Sam was struggling at the bar, yet his older brother who’d dragged him in, kicking and screaming with hardly _any_ experience, was allowed to make social calls?!  That wasn’t happening.

Jo stalked across the length of the room and pasted on a cheesy smile once she saw there were four people in this group.  Two people she’d seen before.  Crap.  This meant that they were regulars.  With a pair of potential new regulars!  She lost almost all of her steam by the time she punched Dean in the shoulder and got his attention.

He jerked backwards, like he’d been caught and cleared his throat, “Hey, Jo!  You need to meet my friends!  They just got here, we were talking about the specials, actually!”

“Were you, now?” Jo deadpanned and crossed her arms, “Have they ordered anything?”

“Of course!” a peppy vibrant redhead spoke up from behind Dean, probably saving his ass when she said, “We’d already ordered four Irish car bombs, four shots—lady’s choice.”  She winked, and Jo did not imagine the fact that she had just been given a once-over.  Interesting.

“All right, got the Irish CBs, and we’ll surprise you with the shots.  Any beer?”

“Please, dear Lord,” the man sunk back against the booth and gave Jo the go-ahead.  “All the beer!  This talking shop has gotten my head pounding.”

The woman next to him instantly snapped, “So you’re prolonging your headache until tomorrow?  When it’ll get even _worse_?  Really nice, Max!”

Dean flashed a smile and wrapped his arm around her, introducing, “So everyone, this is my little sister, but not, Jo Harvelle.  She’s sassy as fuck, but the best friend money can’t buy.  Not to mention clutch on these nights.  Joanna,” Dean made a sweeping gesture, “That’s Max and Alicia Banes, they’re twins, if you didn’t notice.  Then that’s Cas, and this is Charlie.  She thinks you’re hot.”

“Dean!” Charlie hissed at him and scoffed, but apparently there was enough liquid courage for her to turn directly to Jo and confirm, “Yeah.  You _are_ super hot, but I’m sure you hear that all time, right!”

“She knows it, too,” Dean stage-whispered, but Jo was actually flabbergasted by how fearless and direct this Charlie chick was.

While Jo didn’t know the twins, she knew Castiel as someone Dean had basically had a hard-on for since he met him.  She’d heard Charlie’s name before ( _a lot_ ) and _had_ briefly saw her face but never connected the dots.  Dammit, Jo needed to regain some kind of control over the situation, and there was only one way she could do that.

“You guys don’t happen to be Dean’s LARPing friends, do you?” Jo looked around the table for a tell, but no one looked ashamed like Dean had when he’d confessed his weekend activities.

“Oh, yeah!” Max confirmed, and gestured to Dean, “That’s how we got to know this guy, right here.  Castiel was just recently dragged along for the ride.  But Charlie,” he let out a low whistle, “She’s been Queen of Moondoor since…God, how long has it been?  And you’ve managed to win every war _how_ many times?  Your tactics never fail, and you’re still wearing the damn crown.  May as well be the Mother of Dragons.”

“I’ve got a trusty hand-maiden,” she giggled, looking at Dean, “But I worked my way up the second I stepped in.  Half was politics, half was flexing your muscles.  I don’t hesitate on either.”  Once again, she flashed Jo that almost come-hither glance and said, “If you ever want to check it out and see what Dean does, please do.  I’d _love_ you give you the grand tour, and there’s nowhere safer than by the Queen’s side.”  Charlie made sure to carefully pronounce those words, and Jo knew she had to get out of there because she was getting sucked in.

“Sounds like a plan.  Thanks for the invite, I’d love to see the maiden in action.  All right, Dean, we’re the gauntlet!  Let’s get your friend’s their booze and get back on the floor!” Jo marched off, her annoying heels pounding against the old wood.

Except, right as she began pouring and everyone was out of sight, Dean decided now was the time to strike.  Once she had filled up a glass and a shot, he loaded it onto his tray.  But not without ‘words of wisdom,’ as he’d call it.

“I think you’d really like LARPing, Jo.  It’s fun, like one of those Renaissance Fairs, except you get to kick ass!  There’s strategy and—”

“What are you getting at, Dean?  Why, all of a sudden, does it matter?”  She stopped what she was doing, placed a hand on her hip and turned to stare at him.  And, oh, did he look guilty.  “Dean!  Out with it!”

“Well… Charlie is, like, super into you,” he finally admitted, Jo pausing before she went to pour what was still in the process of being placed in the order.  Dean continued, almost as background noise, “Her standards are insane!  She’s a goddamn genius, one of my best friends—well, besides you—and if you’re willing and open to try it out, why not?”

Jo had officially (on purpose) jammed so much onto the tray it was almost more than he could handle.  Dean would need to move at a snail’s pace back into the chaos of the other room.  Not only would he have to control the fine, artful balance himself, he’d have to worry about other patrons, who were beginning to go from joyous celebration of Irish roots that weren’t their own, to rowdy, drunk assholes.  It _was_ rounding on midnight, after all.

“Hey!  Joanna Beth,” Dean demanded, even though he was already struggling with the tray, for which she sent him a cocky grin.  “Can you give me a clue?  Like, a yes, no, maybe?”

She pranced over, took one of the shots from the tray and tossed it back for herself.  Jo made Dean wait, supporting all that weight, all that liquid disaster while she poured one more ridiculously and painfully slow.  She replaced it, the balance on the tray going all wonky while she smiled.

“How about this, Dean.  I’m a big girl.  I don’t need you match-making.  And it looked like Charlie didn’t need it either, she could tell me I was hot to my face.  No need for a middle man, is there?”  Jo clucked her tongue and totally went for it, pulling the asshole move of patting Dean on the back.  “Good luck out there!”

He cursed wildly, moving with the sloshing liquid and moseyed (waddled) away.

\---------------------------

The shifts swapped, Sam had to take off because he had an exam in the morning—which was cruel and unusual punishment for a freakin’ holiday!—so Jo had to move up and man the long bar, working next to Benny.  

She was surprised with how busy it was that it didn’t look like there were any patrons (maybe one, alone, drowning some kind of sorrow) who claimed these as seats.  Everyone was in and out socializing, placing their order, either putting it on a tab or paying on the spot.

In the end?  Kitten heels—fantastic idea.  If Jo didn’t have the little extra height-boost, when she leaned forward over the higher bar tip, her cleavage wouldn’t have been on excellent display like this.  So right now, those tips were raining down!

“You’re a hustler, cher,” Benny was wiping off a glass, trying to keep up with the cleaning even though that was another one of Ash’s duties.  “Is it wrong for me to say you look stunning tonight?”

Jo mused over it, and decided in the end to shake her head.  “Nah, I mean, I went out of my way to dress to impress, you know?  Maybe I’d be more upset if people didn’t notice,” she confirmed, pouring four shots of fireball for the second high-top on the right.  One of Ruby’s tables.

Word was, everyone was getting _showered_ in tips and they only had a half hour to go.  Last call was in fifteen minutes, and Ash was at it again—this his damn Darth-Vader-Speaker-System—announcing the next drink deals and the countdown before the booze was cut off.

Jo was so busy rolling her eyes, handing off the shots to Ruby who thanked her—both women mutually excited over this finally wrapping up—that she hadn’t noticed someone gracefully sidled up on the bar stool right in front of her.  Someone wearing a grin and pure confidence, even if her first words didn’t convey it.

“Wow.  So Dean can never keep his flippin’ mouth shut about anything, can he?” That was Charlie’s icebreaker, and she finished by saying, “Two shots of tequila.  One for me, one for you.”

“Training wheels?” Jo asked casually, heading right for the Patron.

“Only a lime,” Charlie was watching her every move, and Jo felt a little warm under the scrutiny of her gaze.  

Still, she was interested.  Even though she wouldn’t admit it to Dean.  Of fucking course, she found this woman gorgeous, she was quirky and Jo knew damn well she was a genius from previous hearsay.  The only thing Jo _hadn’t_ known?  Was that Charlie was fearless when it came to matters of… what?  Was this a seduction?  Or just getting to know each other?  Jo had no clue, and that was the part that left her unhinged.  She hated the unknown!

“So,” Jo began, setting the tequila with limes in front of them, “How does it feel to order Dean around and have him _actually_ listen to you?”  There was a mischievous smirk worming its way onto her face.

Charlie lit up, and matched the impish nature in Jo to say, “It feels like I’m his domme and he’s a mouthy sub.  But don’t tell him that.”

Jo tossed her head back and laughed, she couldn’t help it.  Just the image, oh _God_ , it was too perfect!  She had to wipe away a stray tear as she raised her glass, and she said, “Cheers to mouthy subs?”

“Always,” Charlie winked and tossed back the top-shelf tequila.

Even though it went down like silk, Jo went ahead and bit into the lime because Charlie did.  The short rest of the night continued in a similar fashion, since it was the countdown.  Customers would come and go, some being denied and cut off, some closing their tab.  Still, each time that Jo came back to chat with Charlie the subject matter grew more and more interesting.  As did the exotic nature of the shots.

She even found herself asking Benny ‘the fuck is—’ and insert Charlie’s request there.  They kept Jo on her toes, and she learned some things about bartending even though she already thought she knew it all.  Enough to write a damn book.  Maybe that was why Charlie was making her question things?  Question the rules and things that she knew?

To ‘let go?’  Well, the heightened amount of attention, of them getting to know one another obviously drew her in, but Charlie didn’t know that Jo was already hooked.  Charlie didn’t have to try so hard, even though she was damn good at what she did… and it was ridiculously attractive to watch her flaunt it.

Especially, when the question, “So Miss Harvelle, what are you doing after this?” hung in the air.

“Haven’t decided, to be honest,” Jo didn’t make eye contact, but continued to wipe down the counter—the bright lights had just illuminated the Roadhouse after last call and fuck, Charlie looked even more gorgeous without the ambient darkness.

The vibrancy of her hair, the bubbling _something_ right beneath her gaze.  Jo wanted to make the move, but she was still all kinds of worried she may have read the situation wrong.  And with Dean as a wingman?  Well… that was doomed to fail.  Dean basically sucked as a wingman.  He constantly tried to bring around the strangest dudes, which made her doubt his matchmaking and his shitty judgment.  But Dean didn't have anything to do with Charlie coming up to the bar (by herself) and getting to know Jo, right?

Jo decided to tie everything back to the beginning with the good tequila; this time she didn’t bother with the limes and she leaned over the bar top.  In the bright lights, now more than ever, there was something all right.  The blatant, barely-concealed longing—what Jo wanted to know what how innocent this was.  How far would Charlie take it, if given the chance?

“You know of an afterparty?” Jo asked playfully, as they clinked their glassed together and then tossed them back.

That’s when Charlie finally became bolder than she had been all night.  She reached out to where Jo’s hand was still wrapped around the shot glass and opened her palm.  She slotted her other hand into Jo’s waiting hand, and for whatever dumb reason, this silly, juvenile act gave Jo butterflies.  Although, she _was_ a master at keeping her face trained.

“As a matter of fact, I do know a party.  If you can deal with Dean,” Charlie teased, brushing up and down her hand.  “I’ll protect you.”  She took Jo’s hand and kissed her knuckles, “It’s what a good Queen does, after all!”

Yeah, she was teasing, but that didn’t mean that Jo’s heart didn’t skip a beat or that a goofy smile wasn’t slapped on her face.  “All right, do you wanna meet there or take a cab together?”

“’I’ll meet with the peasants, see what they’re thinking.”  Charlie’s eyes lingered just a bit longer before disappearing into the crowd.

“Wow.”  Benny’s voice was downright surprised, “I’d say if you follow this one, you’re in for it tonight, cher!”

“What do you think?” Jo turned and gave him her full attention, “I like her.  I wanna see where it leads.”

“That kind of woman,” Benny gestured to where Charlie had already made her escape, “She knows exactly what she’s after.  What she’s lookin’ for.  If she thinks she’s found it in you?  Be ready for an exciting night.”

“Perfect.”  Jo grinned like a Cheshire cat.  “After the shitfest that was tonight?  Some real excitement is exactly what I’m in the market for.”

\---------------------------------------

For as much as Charlie could flirt and present well, dammit, her palms were sweaty!  She tried to rub them off on her cute little dress (not even remotely as gorge as Jo’s) because Dean was banking on hooking them up tonight.

Well, Charlie was in!  She’d met Jo once or twice, always on the busy nights, but she’d never made a move.  Or…much of an impression, so Dean said.    
  
And after a proper introduction, but no real follow up on their St. Patty’s Day outing, Dean had _also_ rolled his eyes and told Charlie she was losing her when Jo switched positions and moved to work at the bar.  That was after he poured her a ’mystery drink’ which happened to be strongest Long Island she’d ever tasted.   _Wow_.

Dean looked around the table and asked, “Think that’s gonna cut it, guys?  After she’s done downing that, I swear to God, if she’s not on one’a those bar stools chatting with Jo—!”

“Relax, Dean.  We know our places,” Castiel assured him, reaching from behind the booth where Charlie was slightly hunched over and gave Dean a squeeze for good luck.

Charlie ignored the ‘moment’ going on behind her, but had a first row seat to Max grumbling, “Dean, you don’t have to be all macho-man and threatening about it with Charlie.  Old news.  Speaking of macho,” he pointed out the pistol that showed where Dean’s shirt had rode up a little, “I wonder what _Ellen_ would think if she knew you were packing on the job…  Doesn't matter if you’ve got a permit.  She’d want you to lock your gun up, nice and safe, while you’re drunk.”  
  
Dean looked scandalized and tugged his shirt back down, snapped, “I’m not drunk!  She’s gotta shotgun!  This is for protection on these nights, you can’t trust people and—”  
  
Max smoothly interrupted with a drawl, “Hell, woman caught me pre-partying, ran me through some sobriety tests, then told me if I’m this intoxicated, I wasn’t allowed to drink without tossing in my keys, _my_  'protection' and…”

Charlie heard Alicia admonish her twin, heard Max and Dean bickering back and forth then it turned into white noise when she began chugging the drink all the way to the bottom.  To the point ice smacked her in the face.  And, oh, Charlie wasn’t feeling _any_ pain.

“Mission time!  Wish me luck!”  As everyone repeated the g’lucks, Dean’s hand gripped her shoulder as she tried to maneuver without disrupting anyone.  Which was practically impossible, given the fact the Roadhouse was most definitely over-capacity and everyone’s path intersected right around here, but Dean looked too serious to blow off.  
  
“…Yes?”  Charlie asked hesitantly.

“She talks about ‘that cute redhead,’ Char, I know that’s you.  Don’t worry about pretending to be anything you’re not.  The way you are is perfect. “  She stilled and slowly turned back and patted him on the cheek.

“Thanks, Handmaiden.  You’re the sweetest.  I got this!”  Charlie kissed his nose and then strutted over, straight for the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

She had to have this.  She _wanted it_ , she wanted _Jo_ … and dammit, if she wasn’t going to try to make this work!

That was what led her to the bar, proud of her conversation skills and not to mention all the sly seduction when that Long Island hit!  Phew!  She made plans and promised Jo an afterparty.  Told her she’d chat it up with the crew, and she prayed they were into it, because while she knew they’d hit it off…Charlie wasn’t sure she was ready to be alone.  _Yet_.

She shoved Dean into the booth where he was closing out their tab, except now he was practically in Cas’ lap.  Even though Dean yelped, Charlie knew damn well it didn’t bother Cas _or_ Dean (she was doing them a favor!) and he demanded, “How did it go?!”

“Swimmingly!” Charlie announced and took a swig from Cas’ drink, made a face and snatched up Alicia’s.  “Except, she’s expecting an afterparty.  Which is _fantastic_ , because that means I’ve got time with her outside of work but…”

“Where’s the but?” Max inquired, crossing his arms on the table and leaning in, “You’ve got Aubrey’s and Luna that doesn’t close until five AM.  This is what you came here tonight to do!  Everyone is looking for an afterparty, especially the servers!”

“My ‘but’ is… I can’t do it alone.  Not yet.  Are you guys all right to keep partying?  Dean?”  She looked to her side hopefully, knowing he’d been busting his ass and hadn't got a chance to get drunk or anything.  “I can totally pull the trigger, I just… still need back-up.  Just a little longer.  You know, some friends in my corner.  I told her I’d chat with you guys to see if you were in.  Are you in?”

“Damn, Char.”  Dean whistled, “Have you been taking puppy eye lessons from Sammy?”

“Is it working?” Charlie added to the batting of eyelashes.

“I’m perfectly content with either,” Castiel was the first to speak up.  “It’s Saint Patrick’s Day.  The goal is to celebrate, is it not?  Unless you’re too exhausted, Dean.”

Charlie shot him a mouthed ‘thank you’ because challenging the man was as good as anything.  Telling Dean he _couldn’t_ do something was the easiest way to get him to _do it_.  Like clockwork—

“No way!  I just gained another wind!  You guys are jerks!” Dean huffed and glared at Charlie, “First drink is on you!”

“Yeah, totally fair!” she raised her hands in front of her and nodded adamantly, then looked at the twins, “How about you two?”

They did that… _thing_ they did.  The twin telepathy thing that only took a glance, and then suddenly, they were on the same page.  In fact, they spoke on top of one another before Alicia just let Max do the talking.

“Nah, we’re gonna call it a night!  It was fun to hang out, but it’s starting to head into double-date territory.  We don’t wanna be the fifth wheel!”  He slung an arm around his sister.  “Not a good look for us.  We had a lot of fun, though.  Make sure next time everyone’s meeting up you call us!  And good luck tonight, Charlie!”

It looked as though they’d already taken care of their tab before they stood up to leave, hugging Charlie in support.  Castiel had tilted his head, questioning mostly to himself, “…double date…?” but Charlie cracked up laughing, because these two were adorable.  And that was great.  Her and Jo could tease them, a flawless bonding opportunity.

“Thank you guys!  I’ll let her know, then once you and Jo clock out and we head over,” Charlie told Dean, but thoughtfully amended, “Oh, hey!  Maybe Cas and I can take off early and make sure we get a spot?  You and Jo can walk over together after you close?”

“That is actually a very good idea,” Castiel jumped in with his thoughts, “As we mentioned, the servers, bartenders and waitstaff, they’ll be heading right to the afterhours bars.  If Charlie and myself get there before those places fill up and save you two seats, it would be for the best.  If we wait, we’ll fall into the same schedule as everyone else.”

“Smart,” Dean’s eyes were lingering on Cas’ and Charlie jumped from the booth and hauled him out.  “Hey!”

“Hey!  You do your job and leave my traveling buddy alone!” Charlie prodded him in the side.  “You’ve still got plenty of tables to cash out!  Hurry, I need to see my girl and get this moving!”  She proceeded to pull Castiel from the booth as well, both men surprised by her strength, considering how small she was, “Tell my future wife we’ll be at Luna.  But leave out the future wife part, I don’t think we’re there yet.  Perhaps fiancee!”

“Heh, all right, Charlie.” Dean laughed and pointed at the two of them, “Don’t get into any trouble, and have some pitchers ready for us when we get there!”

“Yes, we’ll have that prepared,” Cas nodded sharply and pulled on his leather jacket.  “We’ll see you two soon.”

Charlie grabbed her own, and followed.  They had a ’double date’ in the works, and the more she thought about it, the more Max had been right.  This was perfect!  More intimate, but Charlie still had her friends and support system in her corner, just as Jo did.  It couldn’t have been a better setting!  So long as they found a good table that wasn’t by the speakers or a shit-ton of people—

Yeah, they needed to hustle!

\----------------------------

Oh, man.  This was good.  It was too good.

Jo hadn’t had this much fun in a long, long friggin time.  Somehow (she had never witnessed it with her own eyes) Charlie had managed to get Castiel _smashed_.  His tolerance was naturally obscenely high, but the ginger woman proudly announced when they arrived that it was only fair everyone was on the same level.

And the things he said to Dean while on said level… it was _gold_!  Pure, old-fashioned gold rush, gold.

Charlie was a good instigator, almost as good as Jo, and they loved setting them up.  They kind of set _themselves_ up, too.  All the while, their hands would brush.  During a game of pool, Jo wasted no time corrected her position with a very, very hands-on approach.  Charlie’s hand would wrap around her waist every now and then, but—maybe because she hadn’t gotten the okay—she’d slide away.

But Jo _was_ very, very okay with it.

That was the difficult part, because she hoped she was reading this right.  She smacked Charlie on the butt and announced she had to go to the bathroom.  But she caught Dean’s attention, and gestured for him to follow her, a quick, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” tossed over his shoulder and he was moving.

“What’s up?” Dean asked Jo when he caught her.

“I’m not misreading this… am I?  Charlie is into me, right?”  Jo hated how her voice was uncertain, and she hated this grade school ’omg does she have a crush?!’  She should just be a damn woman and ask for herself!  But… Dean would know, and obviously had something (a lot of things) to say.

“Uh, duh,” he chuckled and shook his head.  “That was, like, the entire point of tonight, ya goon!”

“What?” Jo stopped, both in her path and her expression.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Um, that Charlie’s had a crush on you for like, ever!  And tonight we knew you were working, it was an acceptable holiday to get blitzed, liquid courage would be on her side, and she was totally gonna finally pull the trigger!”  Dean paused, and it looked like he was debating sharing more information with a finger tapping his chin.  “She even begged us to come here because she wanted to spend more time with you, but didn’t want anyone uncomfortable.  Please, dear Jesus fucking Christ, tell me that you like her?  You two are literally perfect for each other, and if you’re asking, it’s gotta be because you don’t wanna be alone in your mushy feelings, right?”

Slowly, because she was kind of stunned, Jo nodded.  “Yeah.  I do like her.  Though I had no idea that tonight was about getting my attention.  Wow.”  Then she glared at him and admonished, “Hey!  It’s not mushy, you ass!”

“Whatever you say!  Well, everyone is bonding and having fun, don’t think it’s _all_ about you, Joanna Beth!”  Dean clapped her on the shoulder.  “But now you’ve got yer answer.  Think you’re gonna act on it?”

“Are you gonna act on yours?” she teased right back, clapping him even harder on his back that the 'thuds' were audible.

Dean smirked something devilish and whispered (while tripping over his words), “Already have!  And it was… _awesome_ … now, we’re tryin’ to figure out what we are.  Yeah, that’s the hard part…”

“Dean Winchester!  Who’s mushy now!” Jo’s jaw dropped and she looked genuinely happy when she said, “I’m proud of you!  Damn proud!  Good work!”

His smile was goofy when he said, “Now, it’s your turn, girl.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Jo hummed and turned back in the direction of the restrooms, “Gotta follow through with this, then it’s time!”

“I’ll be proud’a _you_ in no time,” Dean straight-up giggled, and then ran into the door.  He cursed loudly, demanding, “Why doesn’t this swing?!” and kicked the wood frame before he pulled it open.

Jo could still hear him shouting about the door from inside the women’s bathroom, and she couldn’t stop laughing.    
  
Dean was notorious for getting into fights with inanimate objects while drunk.  It truly was a talent, and Jo wondered if this was just the beginning, and which object he'd take his rage out on next.  Perhaps a chair or a lit candle?  That had happened before, the spreading flame had gotten them kicked out, and for good reason.  Only Dean Winchester could start a bar-fire…

\--------------------

Jo sauntered back to the table with more confidence than ever and didn’t even hesitate to take Charlie’s hand into her, momentarily making the woman stumble in what story she was telling and glance down, probably trying to make sure it was real.  She flashed Jo a grin, scooted close, and launched right back where she left off.

Of course, Jo was completely lost, but Charlie was so animated when she spoke like this, passionate and in the moment, it was damn near impossible not to be drawn in.  In fact, this one such story had Dean in stitches laughing, and Castiel chuckling, trying to compose himself.

“Damn, I missed out on a good one, didn’t I?” Jo raised an eyebrow, and turned all her attention to Charlie.  “Got any other good stories?”

“Oh, I’ve got stories for days!  Many a tale to tell—however,” she leaned in as though she was telling a secret, “It’s nights like this that you _make_ those kinda stories for the future.  Ya catch my drift?”

Jo decided not to answer her with words.  She nodded her head, saw Charlie’s brilliant smile, and she couldn’t keep away.  Dean’s damn advice, followed by the title fight of Winchester vs. the Bathroom Door was making all these things happen insider her.  There were butterflies, she was buzzing with this new energy and now that she knew it wasn’t only her?  Fuck who saw.

She closed the distance between them and kissed Charlie in a moment of recklessness.  Still, Charlie managed to surprise her, her tongue already tracing the seam of her lips and Jo opened, Charlie’s tongue hot and expertly licking inside.  Just this little taste… fuck, she was wet!  This wasn’t okay—!

Charlie hauled Jo closer still, she was about to straddle her lap when Dean loudly cleared his throat and said, “Ladies.  Ladies!  Okay,  _savages_?!”    
  
It was the last one that finally broke them out of the moment.  “It’s getting close to last call here.  We should pay up and start looking for cabs.”  Dean paused, and said without worrying, “You’re going home with me,” to Cas, and then looked at the women, remembering he was a wingman, and said, “It’ll be cheaper for you two to share a cab and split the fare, you know.  You live pretty close, considering how damn big the city is.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jo roughly cleared her throat.  “That’s, uh, a good idea.”

And a perfect set-up, she knew it clear as day, because once they said their goodbyes and they were loaded up in the taxi, Charlie’s wandering hands were driving her insane.  You know what?  Jo was feeling on top of the world, her filter didn’t matter much, and she grabbed Charlie’s chin to gain her focus.

“So the only question is your place or mine?”

Charlie squeaked, and it was goddamn adorable!  Jo could see the options running over and over on repeat in her head before she arrived at, “I’ve only got a double bed—”

“I’ve got a king.  We’ll go back to my place,” Jo decided, and told the cabbie her address.  
  
\-------------------------------------------

Charlie had begun breathing a little heavier, watching Jo and her pure poise but more than anything, the way her body language had changed.  She was facing Charlie, trying to get away with any touch that the driver wouldn’t yell at them about, but her eyes… Jo could see her own reflected back into Charlie’s and they were both completely taken.

But, God, it was something so much more than just sexual chemistry.

They’d been on a full date.  A true, honest _date_.    
  
Yeah, their connection, their attraction was off the charts but they liked each other more than they thought they would, more than they’d admit aloud.  They’d surpassed expectations, and as they pulled up in front of Jo’s apartment, Charlie followed behind, refusing to let Jo pay for the fare.  She was being a lady about taking care of her woman, thank-you-very-much.

They didn’t bother with the elevators, she was on the third floor and it was an exciting game of chase.  Every time they reached a landing, Charlie would pin Jo against the access door and kiss her speechless until Jo wrangled herself away and tugged Charlie up another flight.

There was an added thrill behind it, because while no one actually used the stairs, they could be caught at any moment.  And Jo’s skirt had already been raked up to show off her ass.  Charlie was completely obsessed with the game.  By the time they actually reached her room, Jo’s bottom was pink from all the groping and random smacks.

Each one of those things, along with the tell-tale hand-prints had her soaked through her panties.

Except, once they got into the apartment, everything slammed to a halt.  “Waitaminute!” Jo blurted out as Charlie had the dress around her waist and her hand between Jo's legs.

“What a—why?”  She frowned, but pulled away, asking, “Are we moving too fast or something, because I totally—”

“No, God, not at all!  I just… this is one of my nice dresses.  One of the only ones I own.  I’ve got to be careful not to tear it, and I gotta hang it up because it’s dry-clean only, so could you help me with the zippers and buttons?” Jo’s voice was hopeful, soothing the material back down and turning around so Charlie could see the back.

“Oh!”  It seemed to click.  “Yeah, wow, this would not have come off with some regular tugging and pulling, that’s for sure!”  The clasp at the top released the tension around the neck, and then the delicate zipper went from the back of her shoulder blades, down to the smalls of her back.  Charlie couldn’t help the awe-struck breath of, “beautiful” that left her lips as she was faced with what seemed like miles of gorgeous soft skin.

Jo’s seemed even more confident than before, and when she stepped out of the dress, she found the hanger she had for when she came stumbling in from the bar all prepared right out here in the kitchen.  Jo hung the dress up, now dressed in a black lacy set of bra and panties and her kitten heels.  “Follow me.  Gotta hang this up and show you my room, right?”

“Joanna Beth!” Charlie tsk’d her, “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, and you love every second.  When are you going to put me out of my misery?”

Jo grinned as she found the open place in the closet to hang the dress and then pulled out two more hangers and handed them to Charlie, “You wouldn’t want your adorable outfit in a scrunched up pile on the floor, would you?”

“I would, if it would hurry things along,” Charlie complained, but she followed suit.

After all, this would be a walk-of-shame type deal.  While she would’ve loved to look well-fucked leaving Jo’s apartment, her hair and makeup could tell that story.  It didn’t have to be her outfit.  Seeing the consideration that Jo had taken to put her things away made Charlie want her to think that _she_ cared about these things… even though Charlie didn’t.    
  
The only good thing that came out of this?  A deliberate strip-tease.

Jo was watching her, sitting on the edge of the bed, and Charlie could hear her breath racing.  It excited her, but Charlie didn’t turn around just yet.  After all, she’d planned for the best, and the best came in the form of a navy blue, lacy thong and a matching push-up bra that left little to the imagination when it was all she had on.

When Charlie peered over her shoulder, Jo’s eyes were on her ass and she asked innocently, “Like what you see?” finally hanging her things up and stepping out of her shoes.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” she pursed her lips and waved her over, deliberately spreading her legs so Charlie could stand between them.  “If I do, I’ll sound like every other guy catcalling you on the street.  Don’t want you to confuse me with that trash.”

Charlie shivered as Jo’s hands rested on her knees and caressed all the way up her smooth thighs, thumbs teasing between her legs on the journey up.  The hunger in the blonde’s eyes was obvious, she was trying to hold herself back, but her hands, once they reached Charlie’s waist, fanned out and slid back down her backside.

Her fingertips just barely snapped the elastic rim of the thong before she cupped Charlie’s asscheeks and squeezed.  “You’re so goddamn sneaky, you know that?”

At first, the words didn’t register, because getting felt up with Jo’s fingers randomly brushing between her legs, feeling her wetness, was causing Charlie’s brain to short-circuit.  “How am I sneaky?” she finally asked, her ass moving against Jo’s wandering hands, trying to push against those delicate fingers when they went anywhere near her needy pussy.

“Because that damn outfit didn’t do you justice at all,” Jo’s voice was full of mischief, seeing how Charlie was putty in her hands.  “Or maybe that’s just what you do?  To keep the creeps away?  Then you turn up the charm with those you actually like?”

Charlie bent forward at the waist, her ass now out of reach, whispering in Jo’s ear, “Did it work?” and at the same time unhooked Jo’s bra.  It fell off the surprised blonde, and Charlie snatched it up, tossing it across the room before she spread Jo out on the bed.  “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”  It was Charlie’s turn to tease, cupping Jo’s breasts and swirling her thumbs over her pert nipples.  “Or…you just called me out on having a shitty fashion sense.”

Jo began to laugh, but it turned into a long moan as Charlie sucked a path down her neck and rolled her nipple roughly with her lips, then the lightest hint of teeth.

“Get your ass up here!” Jo demanded, and kicked off her shoes, over and done with being on the edge of the mattress.

She wanted to be on the right part of the bed, with Charlie bantering with her, undressing her and doing her worst.  Jo wanted it so bad, her body throbbed with need.  Charlie easily chased her up towards the pillows, and in a smooth move, tugged off her panties.  Just like the previous time Charlie removed something, Jo was caught off guard by the near sleight-of-hand, and her jaw dropped.

“How do you do that?!” Jo demanded, sitting up a little, completely naked.

Charlie climbed over her, settling her weight in between Jo’s legs with a wicked glance and kissed her in a burst of passion.  She nibbled Jo’s lower lip and then pulled away, saying,  “I’m just that good.”

“Yeah,” Jo smirked widely and laughed, “I guess you are.”  Her laughter was interrupted by Charlie and two of her fingers sliding inside Jo.  It was the perfect position, and once more Jo was surprised, but in the best fucking way.

She didn’t bother holding herself up and dropped back to the mattress, feeling Charlie finger her made her keen, but—

“F-fuck that feels good,” Jo whimpered, “But why aren’t you naked?”  

When Jo flashed a pout no one could say no to, Charlie, whose eyes were dark with sheer lust, suggested, “How about you help me out with that?” and slowly circled Jo's clit with her thumb.

It sounded like a great idea, except Jo was gasping as Charlie’s fingers curled inside her and hit the spot that made her see stars.  But Joanna Beth Harvelle was nothing if not determined.  She writhed and begged for more, but she was able to rip away the bra still wrapped around Charlie.  It wasn’t as graceful or elegant as when Charlie smoothly undressed her, but it did the job.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” Jo praised, spreading her legs more as Charlie began stroking her clit with more intent.  “Jesus, I’m already about to cum, dammit!”

“We’ve got lots of time,” Charlie reminded her, then wondered aloud, “Have you ever been with a woman before?”

Jo’s hesitation told her everything she needed to know.

“Oh.  Wow.  Well, _that_ would be why you’re all ready cum.  We know what we want, _and_ we make it happen,” Charlie winked, and kissed Jo like she meant it.

Charlie continued twisted and curling her fingers, gaining more friction as she added the assault on Jo’s clit.  Between that and the mind-blowing kisses, Jo had her arms wrapped around Charlie’s neck, trying to pull her as close as possible, needing that connection, needing more—

All she could do was weakly roll her hips against Charlie’s hand, yet the woman knew what she was doing and in the blink of an eye, Jo had to break the kiss to shout out into the room.  “Jesus, fuck!  Charlie!”  Her orgasm hit her like a brick wall, one that Charlie shattered through _for_ her, and Jo wrapped her legs around the woman, pulling her in close, never wanting her to go.  
  
Jo didn’t muffle her moans, the desperate grabbing hands and Charlie’s name falling from her lips.  She rocked into Charlie’s hand and arched her back, the woman’s expert hand working her through the longest, hardest rush of Heaven Jo could’ve imagined.  Fuck, she was almost positive her mouth had closed around Charlie’s neck and instantly left a mark while she had a fistful of her hair—

Charlie was slow to pull out, Jo whining a bit because of her oversensitive, over-stimulated _everything_ , but she smiled and kissed the redhead again when she collapsed backward to the bed.  “ _Goddamn_ —you’re right,” Jo hummed.

“I know I am,” Charlie laid them both down on the sheets.  “Being with a woman is pretty awesome, right?”

“Yeah,” it was a sensual, happy purr, and Jo began to reach out—

But Charlie stopped her.  

While Jo frowned, she was answered with a soft yet happy, “We don’t have to rush into it right away.  I… had no idea this was your first time, Jo.  We can talk about it more.  Sober.  I know you want to dive in and, trust me, I _want_ you to, but if you’re as into me as I’m as into you?”  Charlie laughed and shook her head, pulling Jo closer by her hip, whispering playfully, “What do you think?  Wanna wait a hot sec, and I’ll show you _all_ the tricks of the trade?”

“Oh.”  Jo’s eyes lit up when all the information hit her, but she agreed, “Actually, I think I’d like that.  You’re gonna stay, right?  Because I really, _really_ do like you…”  She ran a hand through her Charlie’s hair and sighed with a wide smile.  “Wow, I feel like I’m in middle school!  But I agree, I like this plan.  Here, let me get us some pajamas,” Jo stood up, but not before kissing Charlie again.

It was deep, fervent and showed her just how much she meant every word.  That she was in this, and they were in this this _together_.

It left Charlie with a dopey grin on her face because, _yes_!  Tonight had been a success!  And she’d walked away (well, was about to lay down and cuddle) with her potential girlfriend.  Damn, if Charlie _already_ didn’t think that Jo was twenty kinds of perfect, she’d be lying.

Charlie gleefully pulled on a loose pair of shorts and a tank top, loving the fact they smelled like Jo, and the comfy way they felt against her skin.  She was sighing in contentment when Jo dragged her under the covers and wrapped her up in her legs and arms.

“Do you have a time you need to be up?” Charlie asked, carding her hand through long blonde locks—it felt as natural as could be.

“Nope.  Pulled my weight last night.  Think I’ve got a dinner shift, but if you’re free…” she paused.  She pursed her lips and for the first time, when Jo spoke up she asked shyly, “We could sleep in?  Do breakfast and lounging?  I’ve got a killer cure for a hangover.”

“That sounds all kinds of perf,” Charlie kissed her forehead and settled in.  “You’ve got me all morning, if you want.”

There was a hint of something devilish when Jo asked, “And if I wanted you longer?”

“I think we can work somethin’ out.”  Dammit, she was on cloud nine.  “Sweet dreams, Miss Joanna.”

“Heh, goodnight, Charlie.  No running out on me, I’ve got fast reflexes.”  She emphasized it by grabbing Charlie’s waist and hauling her hips against the other woman’s side flirtatiously.

“Is that a threat?  Because it didn’t work.  It was too sexy.  And it’s not fair to get me riled up.  Again…” Charlie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.  “Although, we’ll have _plenty_ of time for you to make it up to me.”

“Oh, I will.  And that part _is_ a threat,” Jo mouthed Charlie’s neck before she collapsed against her shoulder with a hum, exhaustion finally setting in.

Her hand absently roamed against the sliver of soft, porcelain skin where Charlie’s shirt was riding up, and the motion was lulling them both slowly, surely, and rhythmically towards sleep.  Charlie hadn’t known that all these small things, Jo’s warmth, her touch and her _touches_ would be so soothing.  Even though she hadn’t gotten off, that wasn’t the point.  Being _with Jo_ was the point.  That was worth so much more.

God, it felt like Charlie had been waiting forever, even though she had a feeling Jo never even had an inkling.  This was the beginning of something beautiful.  Charlie mused that the Queen had found her other Queen, because Jo was a hell of a lot more than a Consort.  She’d have to send her Handmaiden a text in the morning as a thank you.


End file.
